Perfect: A Quartie Christmas Tale
by sartietingles
Summary: Artie and Quinn are left to spend a miserable Christmas alone. That is, until they bump into each other and decide to be alone together.


**Title**: Perfect: A Quartie Christmas Tale  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Romance/Christmas fluff  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: ~4000  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Quinn/Artie  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Artie and Quinn are left to spend a miserable Christmas alone. That is, until they bump into each other and decide to be alone together.  
><strong>AN: **This fic is dedicated to Kary (takeaminutejusttobreathe on tumblr) for the Artie stan secret Santa! I do hope she likes it. Merry Christmas Kary! And Merry Christmas to all the Artie stans because I love you guys.

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><p>Artie Abrams sighed. Most kids look forward to Christmas - but for him the whole month of December was riddled with bad memories and painful flashbacks. Not to mention his mum got super guilty in December. The anniversary of the accident was hard for all of them. But this year seemed like it was going to be even worse for Artie. Usually Christmas was a big family do at his place, but this year his little brother, mum and dad were all leaving him to go to some hotel in LA they'd won three tickets to. Artie had insisted it was fine they went without him - he didn't want to be a burden on them any more than he was usually, and the hotel wasn't wheelchair accessible anyway - but he still felt beyond crappy. He'd originally said it would be OK because he was going to spend Christmas with Sam and his family, but Sam had forgotten about that offer almost as soon as it he'd made it (to be fair, it was more of an offhand comment than an invitation, but Artie had been really excited and thought Sam was too) and a shiny new toy by the name of Rory had come along and replaced him. Being alone on Christmas really didn't appeal to him at all, especially after the year he'd had. He sighed and wheeled himself out of his house, shivering at the cold. He hoped the local pizza place would be open for lonely saps like him on Christmas Eve.<p>

Quinn Fabray slammed the door of her car more loudly than she'd expected. But then again, she was feeling a lot more angry than she'd expected. Her mum was spending Christmas Eve with her sisters who, despite that whole obligation to love them because they were related to her, were some of Quinn's least favourite people as they took every possible opportunity to make some snide comment about Quinn's pregnancy or her weight or her appearance or her grades or any other thing they could find flaw in. Naturally, Quinn refused to go with her mother and, as much as her mother had tried to get out of it, there was no way she could, so apologising a million times she'd left Quinn in their empty house that morning with a kiss on the cheek and a wave goodbye. Quinn wasn't angry at her mum, really. She was just angry at her situation. Angry at a lot of situations actually. Hard as she tried she couldn't seem to make herself happy. Sam had come back, and in her head that would have fixed all of her problems. But he wanted Mercedes, and Quinn didn't really want him... she just wanted the happiness she associated from her times with him. Quinn sighed. These thoughts were too heavy to be having while driving. She checked her watch - the pizza place down the road was open for another twenty minutes. What kind of teenager spends Christmas Eve alone getting pizza?

A pair of glasses and blue eyes bobbed behind the window enjoying a pizza more loudly and vigorously and somehow endearingly than Quinn had ever thought humanly possible.

"Artie?"

Artie made a noise that sounded like "Quinn" through the pizza.

Quinn couldn't help but smile. "Hi, Artie," she grinned.

He wiped his mouth self-consciously.

"Hey, Quinn. What are you doing here?"

"Pizza," she replied. "Family's away for Christmas and I'm too lazy to cook for myself so... pizza."

"Same here," Artie said, waving his arm in agreement. "Merry Christmas, huh?" he laughed.

"What kind of a way to spend Christmas is this?" Quinn scoffed. "I mean… we're by ourselves eating take away pizza. Isn't Christmas supposed to be like… that perfect, happy day?"

"It's only flawed and unhappy if you make it that way," Artie tried, taken aback by the fact that this seemed to upset her so much. He wasn't sure what to do, so he gestured to the table and asked, "Care to join me?"

"Ok," she said unenthusiastically, but then, remembering herself, she smiled and added, "I'd love to." She placed her bag down in the chair opposite him and strolled off to order.

Artie watched Quinn as she walked away. He was always struck by how remarkably pretty she was even though he saw her nearly every day. They weren't very close, however. Quinn had been really distant and aloof recently and Artie didn't think he'd properly spoken to her since Nationals in New York, so he prepped himself for what was probably going to be him putting his foot in his mouth and being awkward and/or inappropriate for the duration of their time together.

After ordering, Quinn sat down with Artie and they chatted easily about school, and families, and glee club, and new methods to get Rachel to shut up once in a while. Quinn found Artie charming and easy to talk to, and Artie – to his surprise – felt the same. Quinn was quick-witted and clever, and he actually found himself enjoying a conversation for the first time in too long. He found himself laughing for too long at her jokes and remembering why they got on so well on the rare occasions when it was just them.

Quinn's pizza came in a take away box as the place was closing any minute. It all felt too soon. She'd been enjoying Artie's company and wasn't really keen on going home to be alone. But then again she was also pretty keen on getting her sad Coldplay music on and having a good old cry...

"Well," she said, the latter option having won in her head, "I should get going."

"You sure?" Artie asked, not at all keen on being alone with his thoughts. "My house is only down the road."

"Sorry," Quinn said heavily but without reason. "I can't."

Artie gave a polite nod and flashed her a grin. "I understand. Merry Christmas, Quinn."

Quinn gave him a relieved smile and a quick hug before ducking out the door and into her car. She felt a little bit guilty for leaving him on his own, but she figured after a while she'd probably just drag him down and make him miserable too... and she didn't want that.

So she went home, alone, and pottered around until it was just late enough for going to bed to be acceptable. As she sunk her head into the pillows, she thought about all the things that were missing in her life, and found herself wishing that the holiday season would just hurry up and finished so she could stop feeling so empty. This wasn't how she was supposed to feel on Christmas Eve.

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><p>Artie rolled down the chilly streets of Lima the next morning. He'd had a terrible night wallowing in self-pity and feeling lonely, going over everything that was wrong with his life at the moment and how it was all his fault. But he knew that Quinn would be doing the same. He'd been down that track too many times to miss the signs.<p>

Artie had always admired Quinn – how brave she was and all that – but he'd hated having to see her go through hell by herself. He wanted to help her now, because there was really no excuse not to any more. If he could just make her smile once, he'd be happy.

"Quinn?" Artie knocked on the door. There was no answer. He pressed his ear to the door, hearing a muffled "Amsterdam" by Coldplay from somewhere in the house. Not a good sign.

He knocked louder again. "Quinn?" he called.

"Who is it?" Quinn's voice was strained with the effort of sounding normal, and the sob Artie heard afterwards confirmed his suspicions.

"It's Artie. I want to get you out of your house. We can do something nice together for Christmas. As friends."

He didn't know why he needed to specify that last bit but he shrugged it off, hoping Quinn didn't notice.

Quinn approached the door and looked at him with tired eyes, choking out a sob.

Artie's insides froze a little. "You shouldn't be by yourself. Not today."

"I don't want to go out," Quinn insisted through tears. "I'm sorry, Artie. I just want to be alone."

"Come on, Quinn," Artie said kindly. "You'll only feel worse locked in here with only you to keep you company. Trust me, been there."

Quinn still shook her head.

"I'll take you somewhere really nice, I promise. We'll have fun!"

Quinn began retreating back inside, mouthing an apology to him.

"If not for you," Artie began, wheeling himself forward to jam the door open, "for me? I really need someone today. And I'd love it if that was you."

Quinn sniffed and didn't react, which was the closest thing to 'yes' he could have hoped for.

"We can make this stupid fucking sham of a day better. For both of us," he had his hand held out to her. "Please?"

Quinn managed a laugh through her sobs and she nodded, but didn't take his hand.

"I have to go change."

Artie scoffed. "There's no one out. And those are nice pyjamas! Gurl, you look good!"

Quinn hiccoughed a laugh again and smiled. "Thank you, Artie."

Artie shook his head. "Don't thank me, _you're_ the one keeping _me_ company, remember?"

After some time Quinn came out wearing a red coat over an ugly Christmas sweater decorated with ducks wearing Christmas hats.

"Ooh!" Artie cooed, "I have that sweater at home!"

Quinn chuckled. "Gross, isn't it?"

Artie looked offended. "Gross?"

Quinn changed the subject. "So where are we going?"

"To the movie theatre!" Artie said dramatically, pointing and swooping away down her driveway in his chair.

Quinn caught up with him. "The theatre? I thought you said we'd do something special."

"The theatre is special," Artie insisted. "Just wait."

After a brisk walk through the cold winds that howled against them, they arrived at the cinema. The lights were off and all the doors were shut.

"Does it get special-er or is this it?" Quinn didn't sound impressed.

Artie chuckled mischievously and showed her to the back entrance. The sign on the door read "Emergency Exit". It was open, and they walked together into an empty cinema.

"WHO GOES THERE?" a deep voiced boomed from somewhere far away. Quinn jumped in fright and clutched Artie's shoulders.

"Only me," Artie called back, giving Quinn a grin.

"Oh, hey Artie!" the same voice echoed.

"What is going on?" Quinn whispered.

There was some clattering of what sounded like empty bottles and eventually a young, bearded figure emerged from the window of the projector room.

"Artie, my dawg! What is up?"

"Nothin' much, brotha," Artie replied. "I've brought a friend with me. We were wondering if we could borrow this cinema for a couple of hours?"

"Yeah, knock yourself out!" the young man slurred. "And if you want any eggnog, there's plenty up here to share!"

Quinn grimaced. "Artie what kind of people do you hand around with?"

"Only the best," he assured her. "His name's James. Used to be captain of the AV club."

"Until Artie my boy snuck in and stole the job!" James called merrily from afar.

"I don't think it counts as sneaking in if you graduate from high school," Artie scoffed.

"You're captain of the AV club?" Quinn asked, impressed. "I didn't know that."

"No one does," Artie replied glumly. "No one cares."

"Sorry," was all Quinn could think of to say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Artie shrugged. "No big."

Quinn changed the subject. "So... this James guy works here?"

"When he's not making movies or vlogging. He's pretty famous on the internet."

"I see."

After inviting them up to the projector room, James let them have their choice of movies.

"We can watch _anything_?" Quinn asked.

"What do you want?" Artie asked. "Musical? Tacky Christmas special? Romantic comedy?"

"Ooh! Horror movies!" Quinn poured over the selection.

"No!" Artie whispered. Sure, he was a fan of old, so-bad-they're-good horror movies from the 30s, but actual scary horror movies were something else.

After a good rummage, she was still undecided.

"What's the scariest one you have?" she asked James.

He chuckled with approval. "Artie, you have good taste in girls."

Quinn blushed scarlet and both of them rushed to correct him.

"No no no I'm not his-"

"She's not my-"

"We're not-"

"Whoa chill guys," James put his hands up in surrender. He went back to the pile and, after a moment, found something he'd deemed sufficiently terrifying. "This one had me up for weeks."

"Good!" Quinn said brightly.

"Oh god," Artie moaned.

Twenty minutes in Artie was gripping Quinn's hands so tightly he was afraid he was hurting her. It was one of those movies with the big tense music and then something would jump out at you at every turn.

Quinn was laughing. Artie failed to see the humour.

After a particularly tense scene Artie had his face buried in Quinn's shoulder while Quinn stroked his hair.

"Artie it's just a movie!" she cried, trying not to laugh - but it was impossible. Artie was something else. He really was. She couldn't remember laughing this much in so long. She couldn't remember anyone going to this much trouble for her in a long time either.

She found herself enjoying the warm weight of him against her and every time he spoke or breathed she could feel it as he was so close to her. And all she wanted was to get closer still.

She leaned her head on his and sighed.

"Is this part over yet?" he mumbled into her shoulder.

"Yup," Quinn deadpanned.

Artie turned to face the screen just as the villain had jumped at the camera.

"QUIIIIIIN!" Artie yelled throwing himself at her.

Quinn was beside herself and she hugged Artie, shaking with laughter. "I'm so sorry Artie I won't do that again I promise that was mean! Oh Artie I'm so sorry!"

"I'm sorry," Quinn was still laughing they munched on a Christmas lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches at Artie's house some hours later.

"You don't sound sorry." Artie plucked at his sweater with a pout. He'd gone to change into his Christmas duck sweater so they were matching as soon as they arrived at his house. Quinn was struck by how adorable this was.

She sniggered. "I thought you'd be into horror movies."

"I thought you'd be into romantic comedies! There are no undead children in those!" Artie whimpered.

"You're obviously not watching the right ones," Quinn snarked.

Artie laughed despite himself. "Fine, I forgive you."

Quinn reached over the table and patted his hand. "Of course you do."

They smiled at each other for a moment, their hands lingering together. Artie's thumb stroked the side of Quinn's hand from underneath and soon their fingers were entwined.

Artie blushed a little, but Quinn continued to look into his eyes in earnest, trying to find a place for all of the feelings that she kept feeling. After a moment she realised how creepy she probably seemed and let go of his hand.

"So, have you got any more plans for the rest of the day?" Quinn asked Artie quickly to distract from what had just happened.

"Uhhh… no," Artie admitted. "I didn't actually think you'd come at all so I didn't think that far ahead. But you're having fun, right?"

"You have no idea," Quinn smiled.

"Good!" Artie grinned. "This Christmas isn't so bad, is it?"

Quinn shook her head. "Not bad at all."

A comfortable silence lingered throughout the room. Quinn's eyes darted over to Artie's couch and obscenely large T.V in the other room.

"There is… one thing I would like to do," Quinn began slowly.

Artie's mind jumped to a whole list of things that involved his couch and hands and lips and Quinn and where were all these thoughts coming from he did not grant them entrance into his brain they shouldn't be in there Quinn was his friend and that was it.

He managed a few disjointed syllables in response.

Quinn didn't seem to notice and she smiled at him cheekily.

"I'd like to see what this "Mario Kart" that Puck's always on about is."

Artie couldn't tell if he was impressed or disappointed with this proposition.

After Artie's Donkey Kong had beaten Quinn's Bowser eleven times consecutively Quinn started to get frustrated.

"This isn't fun at all!"

"That's only because you're not winning," Artie cackled, pushing Quinn off a cliff.

Quinn gasped. "That's not fair!"

Artie tutted. "You should have thought about that before you took me to the scariest movie in existence."

"Hey!" Quinn retorted, but she was too distracted by the game to finish the statement intelligently.

The spent the rest of the night watching bad Christmas shows, picking each other's brains and having the occasional jam. Artie loved Quinn's voice so much he always forgot to come in for harmonies.

Later they made pasta out of whatever they could find in Artie's pantry. Artie was a terrible cook and so was Quinn but together they kind of made it work.

"This tastes weird," Quinn mused, twirling her pasta, "but like, good weird."

"Mhhmmhmmm," Artie agreed messily, but not wrongly.

Before dinner was finished they held up their glasses in a toast.

"Merry Christmas, Artie," Quinn smiled.

"And to you, Q!"

They smiled at each other quietly for a moment, then Artie broke the silence, yelling, "Speech!"

"Speech?"

"Speech!"

"But-"

"Speech!"

"Are you serious?" she laughed.

"You have to make a speech. As of now it is tradition."

"Fine," Quinn groaned in mock exasperation.

Artie clapped happily and beamed at her.

"Well," Quinn began awkwardly, not quite knowing how to put things. "I suppose... I always want things to be perfect, you know? If I'm not wanting perfect clothes or perfect hair, I'm wanting a perfect life or, at this time of year, a perfect Christmas." She laughed sadly as she spoke. "And I'm just realising now," she continued," that all of my ideas of perfection were totally wrong."

Artie was enthralled, and everything around them was hushed silent, as if the night itself were eager to hear this beautiful girl's beautiful thoughts.

"Because even though today there was no big Christmas lunch or presents or decorations or any of that stuff, this Christmas was perfect." Quinn leaned over the table and took Artie's hand in hers. "Because I was with you."

Artie smiled shyly, and opened his mouth to make some defusing comment, but Quinn went on.

"You're perfect, Artie. You're everything I ever wanted. And I want to thank you for today. It was..." she was getting all choked up. "It was lovely."

A tear slid down her cheek and Artie wiped it away gingerly with his thumb.

"Aw, Quinn, don't cry," Artie urged through a grin. "That was like the whole point of today."

"It's good crying," Quinn insisted with a chuckle. Artie's hand lingered on her cheek and she smiled at the warmth. They stayed like that for a moment, taking each other in.

"OK, your turn," Quinn said promptly. "Speech!"

Artie groaned. "But yours will be so much better than mine can't we just go back to watching Love Actually? We stopped it right before my favourite part!"

"Hugh Grant dancing?"

"Naturally."

Quinn laughed, but shook her head. "No," she said. "Speech. Now."

"Fine," Artie sighed. "Well, first, thanks for keeping me company today." He bowed his head at her in gratitude.

She giggled indulgently. "You're welcome."

"Even though I was disappointed you didn't come to the movies in your PJs, and even though that movie scarred me for life, I think we had a pretty good time." Artie looked thoughtful and smiled. "I suppose I'm just really glad you were here Quinn. I'm glad we made what was shaping up to be the worst Christmas ever one of the best. And I'm glad you let me make you smile, because you're amazing, Quinn, you should always be smiling." He laughed with embarrassment. "And, I'm feeling super-awkward now so I'm going to stop before I say something awful, Ok?"

Quinn grinned. "Ok."

"Merry Christmas," Artie said, raising his glass to her again.

"Merry Christmas, Artie," Quinn couldn't keep a giant smile off her face.

Quinn watched their entwined hands and then looked into Artie's startlingly blue eyes.

"So can I kiss you now or..."

"Sounds like a plan," Artie grinned, leaning forward and placing a hand on her cheek. Their lips touched gently, lingering slightly as they hesitated. Artie couldn't help but smile into the kiss as he breathed in the smell of Quinn's perfume. They parted, their faces staying close.

"If I went back in time and told my younger self that one day I'd be kissing Quinn Fabray on Christmas day I'd probably laugh in my own face," Artie grinned.

"Oh shush," Quinn beamed at him. "I'm not all that."

"Gurl, you are all that and then some," Artie exclaimed, pulling her in for another kiss because, well, he could.

And they kissed and they kissed again and both of them thanked their lucky stars that they'd been ditched by their families on that stupidly perfect Christmas.

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><p><em> Thanks for reading &amp; feedback is more than appreciated! Happy holidays!<em>


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